


His Brother, The Lover

by ColetheWolf



Series: Smutty Drabbles [20]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Copious Amounts of Cum, Derek is a pornstar, Fingerfucking, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Rough Sex, Stiles is a virgin, Sweat, Wet & Messy, derek is scott's older brother
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 06:37:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16827151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColetheWolf/pseuds/ColetheWolf
Summary: Stiles meets Scott's older brother for the first time, who just so happens to be a scruffy, shaggy-haired, perpetually grumpy pornstar that ends up peaking Stiles' interest....





	His Brother, The Lover

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a drabble, but ended up being like 4,000+ words. Oops! Anyways, I hope you enjoy it. I post drabbles, alongside reblogged gifsets that I draw drabble inspiration from @ halesparked.tumblr.com
> 
> Original Post: https://halesparked.tumblr.com/post/180750998660/harris-is-fucking-with-my-gpa-scott-stiles

“Harris is fucking with my G.P.A, Scott.” Stiles argued, shifting impatiently as he stood behind Scott on the front-porch of the McCall residence, waiting for Scott to hurry up and open the door. “And I’m not going to stand for it.”

Scott scoffed, opening the front door. “What are you planning to do about it, though?”

“I’ll write a letter to the mayor and tell them that one of the jerk-off teachers at Beacon Hills High is trying to screw up my grades right before graduation.” Stiles explained, following Scott into the foyer of the house. “And they’ll have to believe me, because my dad’s the sheriff.”

“Somehow, I don’t think that’ll work out—”

The two momentarily settled into the living room — dropping the weight of their backpacks down onto the carpeted ground. Scott dove onto the couch and immediately started to surf through the channels for something entertaining to watch as a way to de-stress from the exhausting day at school. All the while, Stiles barreled upstairs to the bathroom before he pissed himself.

Stiles made it upstairs and made his way towards the guest bathroom, but then noticed that one of the guest bedroom doors was shut — with a bright light beaming out into the hallway from underneath the door. Not only that, but the shadow of somebody walking around and the sound of somebody rustling through dresser drawers was enough to make Stiles’ ears perk up. 

There was somebody else in the house….which, wouldn’t have really been a big deal if it had been one of the days of the week that either of Scott’s parents had off from work. But it wasn’t — Melissa and Mr. McCall were both supposed to be off at their respected jobs until six o’clock, which meant that somebody else was rummaging through a bedroom’s dresser.

Stiles timidly gripped his hand around the doorknob to the bedroom, despite the fact that all of his father’s lessons about running away from danger knocked around inside of his head. He turned the doorknob as quietly as he could, pushing open the door just enough to peer inside and snap a picture of the trespasser with his memory so that a description could be given to the police department later. 

But what Stiles didn’t expect was to see a totally ripped, totally fresh out of the shower, totally naked man putting on a fresh pair of boxers. It took Stiles by surprise at knocked the air right out of his lungs, making him accidentally yelp out the words: “holy shit” —and unintentionally alerting the intruder to the fact that he was being watched. 

“What the fuck?!” The intruder angrily called out, beaming his dangerous gaze at Stiles. 

Stiles jolted back — shutting the bedroom’s door with a loud bang. He raced back downstairs, crying out for Scott to call the police. Once he made it downstairs, Scott was already up and off the couch, completely confused and worried as to why his friend was freaking the hell out instead of using the bathroom like he was supposed to. 

“What happened?!” Scott questioned worriedly.

“Th — there’s — a naked burglar in the bedroom.” Stiles breathed heavily, trying to catch his breath. “He saw me and now he’s about to come down here and kill us.”

The heavy patter of frantic feet stomping down the upstairs hallway and the staircase caught Stiles and Scott’s attention. Frozen in fear, the two watched anxiously as the intruder made his way down the stairs to the bottom landing — still only wearing a pair of tight plaid boxers, but obviously angry and laced with the visible desire to commit murder. 

“What the fuck, Scott?” The intruder boomed, stepping closer to the two frightened high school seniors. He shoved the palms of his hands against Scott’s chest, pushing him back. “Tell your pervert of a friend to keep his eyes out of my shit.”

“Wait—you know him?” Stiles questioned, turning his attention away from the intruder’s rock-hard abs to Scott’s distressed face.

“Unfortunately…” Scott admitted, rubbing at his chest. “He’s my older brother.”

“That’s Derek?!” Stiles’ eyes widened in shock, momentarily glancing back to Derek and then back to Scott. “He doesn’t look like a lawyer.”

“I’m not a fucking lawyer.” Derek corrected, glaring at Stiles once more before turning his attention back to his little brother. “You’ve been telling people that I’m a lawyer?”

Scott crossed his arms defiantly, unwilling to further comment on the situation out of anger and embarrassment. His brother couldn’t just pop up into his life again, shove him around, and then demand answers. But what was worse was that Derek wasn’t the only one waiting around for an explanation. Stiles was also waiting.

“No, he’s not a lawyer.” Scott mumbled. 

“Then—what do you do?” Stiles turned his attention to Derek yet again, hellbent on keeping his eyes situated on Derek’s instead of all of the very wet and very nice nakedness.

Derek scoffed. “I fuck people for a living… _on camera_.” 

A brief moment of silence fell upon the three. Scott was annoyed, Stiles was completely about to implode, and Derek seemed to be perpetually done with existing around other living creatures. Nobody really seemed to want to be the first person to follow up with conversation after Derek’s reveal. Despite the fact that Scott had already known—it was still embarrassing. 

“What are you even doing here, Derek?” Scott started. “I thought you were all happy down in LA.”

“I got evicted from my apartment, so I’m staying here until I score another place.” Derek explained shortly. “Now, stay out of my room, be quiet, and tell your bambi-eyed twinkish friend that this is _our_ house—not his!”

Derek stomped right back upstairs and into what was apparently his old bedroom prior to moving out. He was a completely different person compared to what Stiles had always imagined Scott’s older brother to be like. Stiles had always pictured Derek being some sort of charming, upstanding lawyer with a picture-perfect life, a wife, some children, and a nice house.

In actuality, Derek was a tough-looking scruffy dude with shaggy black hair, piercing shadowed eyes, lean muscles, and an attitude that was so explosive that it could probably set houses on fire. Not to mention the fact that he was a pornstar somewhere on the internet….Derek was everything parents warned their young about. 

And yet, Stiles couldn’t fight the appeal of Derek’s dangerous charm. Derek was basically a walking wet dream. Stiles couldn’t get the scorching visual of Derek’s body out of his head…plus, the image of those tight boxers slipping up and over the round curvature of Derek’s ass was forever seared into the back of his brain. Stiles wouldn’t forget, even if he tried.

+

That night, Stiles found himself locked up in his own bedroom—door locked, lights low, and laptop front and center. As an avid porn-watcher, Stiles couldn’t believe that he had never managed to stumble upon Derek. But now that he knew, Stiles knew that he had to find him around somewhere. He needed to see a scene, or five, or maybe a couple dozen….however many Derek had filmed. 

Stiles scoured through the internet, carefully scrolling through some of the professional studio websites that he frequented. Unfortunately, he couldn’t find anything conclusive. The hunt quickly began to seem like a tireless effort. Perhaps Derek had lied just to be funny. Maybe he wasn’t actually a pornstar. Maybe he really was a lawyer. Maybe Stiles was wasting all of his available masturbation time searching for something that wasn’t even a real thing. 

And if he wasn’t going to be able to find confirmation of Derek being a pornstar somewhere on a reputable site, Stiles figured that there was no use in wasting the available private time he had set aside for himself. Porn was still something to enjoy. And if Stiles was lucky enough, he figured that he’d be able to find some obscure video somewhere on PornHub with at least one performer that resembled Derek in some way. 

After scrolling through pages and pages of semi-interesting thumbnails and titles, Stiles eventually landed on something that both looked and sounded interesting. The motion thumbnails barely showed anything—besides a few zoomed in snippets of bodies slamming up against one another inside of some polished up dorm room set. 

The title was enticing….

**“Wolf Timbershaft NAILS a Tight Twink College Boy”**

Stiles clicked on the video and settled back against his headboard, resting his laptop to the side of his legs. As the video started to play, Stiles eagerly pulled his cock out of his boxers—giving himself a few solid strokes, letting the establishing shots play out. All good pornos set the stage and whatever adventure Stiles had just clicked on was certainly taking it’s precious time.

Eventually, some lean-muscled blond guy with a tight shirt and even tighter jeans dramatically groaned out and tossed a crumbled piece of paper off of his desk. Homework trouble, obviously. Stiles could relate. The blond dude muttered some poorly acted complaints about how hard college was and then the dorm room’s door received a few knocks. 

Stiles perked up — excited to finally get into watching some kind of interesting action. He watched as the blond dude on the screen opened up the door to reveal _Mr. Wolf Timbershaft_ in all of his dominant glory…which, much to Stiles’ bewildered shock, just so happened to be Derek….Scott’s brother…the overbearingly gruff and perpetually angry dude that Stiles had accidentally snuck a peak at back at the McCall house.

It was like the gods above…or the devils below…had fought to reward Stiles with what he had already spent half an hour searching for. Stiles hadn’t been able to find Derek’s porno career with what he had personally felt to be a good investigative session. And then all of a sudden, a scene of Derek’s managed to drop right down into Stiles’ lap.

Immediately, Stiles found himself unable to do anything other than pour all of his attention into watching Derek fiercely maneuver himself through the scene. It was amazing….beyond amazing. Whatever re-uploaded video Stiles had managed to stumble upon definitely wasn’t Derek’s first game. He knew exactly how to take control, work over his scene partner, what kinds of dirty talk sounded the hottest when sprinkled throughout the scene….it was all perfect, calculated, hot as fuck….

Stiles didn’t even last until the mid-point of the video before he ended up coating his stomach and knuckles with his load. What he would give to get just a taste of Derek. It was bad, sure. Stiles knew that he probably shouldn’t lust after his best friend’s older brother. It was definitely breaking some kind of “bro-code” by even thinking about it…but Stiles couldn’t help himself. The fantasy was just too much. 

+

The next day, Stiles drove over to Scott’s house with legitimate intention to ask if he could borrow a extra pair of lacrosse gloves from the upcoming big game. Seeing as how it was only five o’clock and Scott didn’t have to clock in at the Animal Clinic until six-thirty, Stiles had no reason not to think that Scott would be home and available to answer the front door.

But much to Stiles’ surprise, Derek was the one who answered the door. Apparently, Scott had been called into work an hour early, allowing for certain dominoes to topple themselves over into creating a situation that Stiles didn’t even know how to properly navigate his way through. He didn’t even know how or _where_ to start.

“What?” Derek barked, leaning against the threshold of the front door. 

“I—uh, I was just—” Stiles babbled nervously, unable to stop himself from raking his eyes down Derek’s body, right down to the bulge at the crotch of his jeans.

“Spit it out!” Derek growled, spiking up the volume in his voice. “ _Jesus Christ_ , why does my brother pick up the weirdest fucking people to associate himself with?”

“I was looking for Scott.” Stiles said, finding his footing in the unsteady conversation. “We have a game—a lacrosse game on Saturday night—and I really need to see if he has a spare pair of gloves.”

Derek settled his uninterested gaze on Stiles. He rolled his eyes and huffed out a frustrated exhale of breath, reluctantly shifting where he stood to allow Stiles to step into the interior of the house. Derek figured that if Stiles just hurried himself up and found Scott’s spare pair of gloves, then he would be out of Derek’s business for the rest of the week. And that’s really all Derek wanted.

Stiles made his way up to Scott’s bedroom. He carefully searched through the places where he knew Scott usually kept his sports equipment. Meanwhile, Derek watched from the hallway—peering into the room to watch and make sure that Stiles wasn’t about to make a huge ass mess that Derek would get blamed by Scott for later.

“I’m just—I know he has them somewhere.” Stiles explained nervously, stumbling around the expanse of Scott’s room whilst innocently looking over to where Derek stood. “I’m not like, trying to steal anything or something like that.”

“I didn’t say you were.” Derek confirmed dryly. “Now hurry up.”

Stiles nodded, crashing down to the carpeted floor in a mad dash to scan under Scott’s bed. He didn’t want to overstay his welcome, and as much as he wanted to stick around and oogle Derek’s hot body, he didn’t actually want to get dragged downstairs and thrown outside on his ass. Derek didn’t seem like he was in the mood to wait around. 

The moment Stiles dropped down onto all fours, Derek felt a twinge of interest spark inside of his body. He raised in eyebrow, analyzing the way Stiles’ back muscles flexed and moved underneath the loose flannel shirt that the boy had on. But Derek’s eyes kept falling down to look at Stiles’ ass—which was practically falling out of the boy’s sagged pants. 

“Fucking _cute_.” Derek noted sarcastically, walking over to stand where Stiles remained on the ground.

“Uh — what?” Stiles questioned, halting his little search, looking up to where Derek was towering above him — all dark, and muscular, calm and casual.

“You think stumbling your way into my house with some bullshit excuse about needing gloves is the way to get what you want?” 

Stiles looked around the room in confusion, unsure as to what Derek was trying to say. Sure, he stumbled around — but that was only because he was naturally clumsy and totally freaked out about being in the presence of his best friend’s pornstar brother. But yes, he actually _was_ looking for gloves that he actually _did_ need…so he didn’t understand what Derek was going on about.

“I’m not lying.” Stiles argued, crawling up to rest on his knees. “Call Scott if you don’t believe me. We have a game on Saturday and he knows that I lost my gloves somewhere last week.”

“Yeah, I believe it.” Derek crossed his arms, scoffing at what he believed to be a flimsy excuse. “And that’s why you came around here when Scotty was at work, right? Cause you knew I’d be here. And you’d be here. And you’d get to put on your little show.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Stiles cried out. “What show? I didn’t know Scott went to work early!”

Derek let a subtle grin tug at the corner of his pressed lips, beaming down to where Stiles remained on his knees. The boy’s bright eyes and flushed cheeks were captivating, but all Derek really wanted to do was see what a nice, hot load looked like dripping off the boy’s button nose and blurring all of the dark moles that were splayed across Stiles’ face. 

“And then you just accidentally forget to wear a belt, let your pants slip down just a little, and make sure that I can see everything when you bend over.” Derek asserts. “I might fuck people for a living in all kinds of dumbass scenarios, but that shit doesn’t fly in real life.”

“Look, I — I think you’ve got me all wrong, Derek.” Stiles said, standing up from where he had been knelt down. “I didn’t come here…I’m not trying to…I barely know you, dude.”

“So, you didn’t see me getting dressed yesterday and then immediately run home to search the internet for some of my scenes so you could jerk off and think about me?” Derek quickly questioned.

“Yeah, but like— _No!_ It wasn’t like that—”

“I get it.” Derek revealed. “You just needed to get it out of your system.”

“Yeah, honestly…that was it.”

“Well, did you do it?”

Stiles shifted around. “What—did I do what?”

“Get everything out of your system?” Derek leaned forward. “Or is that why you’re here? Because you need some help?”

The gravity seemed to shift in the room. It felt heavy. Stiles found himself drawn deep into the shadows of Derek’s sharp eyes. Everything that Derek was saying was so overwhelming. Some of it was true, but the other half was a complete misreading of the situation. And either Derek was too dumb to realize it, or he just didn’t care, because he had already made up his mind as to what he wanted. 

“Are you suggesting—” Stiles started.

“ —that you get up on Scotty’s bed and pull down those pants?” Derek’s voice was calmed and smooth. He watched as his words poured right into Stiles’ head. “Yeah, I’ll give you a ride….if you keep up the whole ‘innocent virgin’ act. I like that.”

Stiles’ eyelashes fluttered in disbelief. He looked over to Scott’s bed and then over to where the bedroom door was still open. It was a now-or-never kind of situation. All of the ingredients seemed to fall together into a perfect opportunity. Scott was at work. Scott’s parents were at work. Stiles had nowhere else that he was supposed to be. 

It was now or never….

Stiles swallowed down his nerves and walked over to the edge of Scott’s bed — shooting inquisitive looks over to where Derek remained, as if to mentally ask questions about whether or not he was setting the moment up correctly. But Derek just watched. So Stiles lifted himself up onto the mattress, getting onto his hands and knees—feet down towards the bottom edge of the bed and his head pointed to the headboard. 

Derek watched as Stiles set himself up into position, offering no words as Stiles looked back for further instruction. Instead, he flicked his head upward —eyeing down to where Stiles’ jeans were slipped halfway down the curve of the boy’s ass. Unsurprisingly, Stiles took the nonverbal cue—letting his upper body crash down into the blankets of Scott’s bed, whilst he reached back with both of his hands and tugged down his pants and boxers. 

Once the roundness of Stiles’ ass was out in the open, Derek clicked his tongue in smug satisfaction. He reached down to his own pants and quickly undid them, pulling out his hardening cock. And as Stiles remained laid down against the soft mattress of his Scott’s mattress, Derek stepped closer to the tight piece of ass he couldn’t wait to tear into. 

With a rough slap, Derek palmed down onto Stiles’ ass—squeezing away the momentary sting of the spank. Derek then situated himself behind where Stiles was bent forward, spitting down onto his fingers, and then softly prodding them into where Stiles was untouched, flushed hot, and undeniably tight. It was a prize to explore and Derek was more than happy to take it.

“Have you ever been here like this before?” Derek questioned softly, sinking a couple of his fingers into Stiles’ receptive warmth. “Don’t tell me Scotty got you first.”

“Gross — _no_.” Stiles groaned, mouthing at the blankets beneath him. “Scott’s my friend….current Biology lab partner…lacrosse co-captain…that’s it.”

“Good.” Derek breathed down against the back of Stiles’ neck. “Then you’ll have to figure out a way to look Scott in the face knowing you’ve fucked his older bro.”

By the time Derek was satisfied with the amount of finger-fucking he had done to Stiles’ hole, the boy was a blubbering mess — soaking the bedsheets underneath their bodies with slobber from Stiles’ perpetually open mouth and from all of the precum that Stiles couldn’t help but let leak down.

Stiles couldn’t help himself. The feeling was so incredible, so overwhelming…he could feel Derek reach deep inside of his body. Derek’s fingers were reaching in, prodding and massaging places that not even Stiles _himself_ had had the opportunity to touch. It was like he could feel Derek’s precision and heat flood into his body and wrap itself around his bones, his heart, and his mind. 

“I think I’m ready.” Stiles murmured. 

“I can feel that.” Derek smirked, watching how easily his wet fingers slid into the puckered tightness of Stiles’ ass. “Now get undressed, take everything off, and get on your back —legs up, spread and open—and keep that bashful expression of confused puppy wonder on that pretty face of yours.” 

Stiles hopped off of the bed and kicked off his pants and boxers, not even bothering to watch them fly across the room and knock over a couple of Scott’s elementary school baseball trophies. He tugged off his flannel and did away with his undershirt, and then hopped back onto the bed—getting into the exact positioning that Derek had instructed him to get into. 

Derek finished undressing himself and then slotted himself in-between Stiles’ spread legs, pulling the boy’s ass closer to the side edge of the mattress. He let the fat head of his cock bat itself teasingly against Stiles’ fingered hole. And when he saw Stiles’ body shiver and quake with anticipation, Derek dove inward into Stiles’ welcoming heat —melting into the slick slide of his bare cock as it squeezed itself into Stiles’ virginity.

Time dealt the cards — it dictated the speed and the brutality. Things started slowly, but quickened with haste. Stiles just seemed to eager take everything that Derek delivered. Derek could actually feel the boy’s hunger for more. Stiles didn’t want it soft. He didn’t want it slow or sensual or any of the things that virgins typically kept themselves on the fence waiting for. 

Stiles wanted _everything_ and then some. 

“Right there— _fuck_ —keep hitting it right there!” Stiles groaned, holding the sides of his own head. Almost as if he were trying to keep all of his overwhelming emotions from spilling out. “Jesus holy fucking motherfucking Christ. You feel so fucking good.”

Derek pretzeled Stiles, keeping the boy’s lithe body pressed together tight and locked under his strength. He powered onward—drilling harder and harder into the receptive tightness of Stiles’ body. All the while, Stiles screamed out in explosive pleasure, loud enough to rattle the windows and surrounding furniture inside of the bedroom. 

“Where do you want it?” Derek breathlessly asked. “I’m gonna cum. Where do you want this?”

“Everywhere.” 

Derek pulled out of Stiles’ hole, grabbing a firm hold of his throbbing cock. He stroked himself quickly, desperately clawing towards a release. And as he stared down at his own cock, watching the way that its weight shadowed over the sweaty expanse of Stiles’ beautiful body, Derek orgasmed—wildly spurting heavy pumps of sticky cum down to gloss atop Stiles.

Stiles kept his legs spread open, watching the way that Derek’s load slung around and rained down onto him. He felt each spurt strike against his body. The initial surprise of wet and sticky heat pouring onto him was satisfying and comforting. And all that Stiles could really do was stare up into the blaze of Derek’s eyes whilst his own orgasm washed over him like a tide of pleasure.

Stiles’ body convulsed. He hurriedly stroked at his cock, groaning and shouting out as he watched his own cock follow Derek’s lead. It was hot…so unbelievably hot. When it was all said and done, Stiles just stared down at his body— breathlessly examining the obscene amount of cum that pooled into the slight ridges of his abs and his navel. 

“I—uh,” Stiles started, loosely sliding his fingers through the collective amount of cum that started to cool on his skin. “—I’m still going to need to find those gloves.”


End file.
